


call me when you think the coast is clear

by likewinning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comment Fic, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3461762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>You can’t just show up with your motorcycle and expect me to forgive you for disappearing. A motorcycle ride doesn’t fix that.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	call me when you think the coast is clear

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a motorcycle," Jason says.

"Yes, thank you. What I _meant_ was, what is it doing outside my apartment with _you_ on it?"

Jason takes off his sunglasses, and Tim doesn't flinch at how bright his eyes are in the afternoon sun. He keeps his arms folded, keeps his face set firmly in _you left me and I hate you_ mode.

"Well," Jason says. "I guess I _could_ have driven it _inside_ your apartment, but the last time we wrecked your place you didn't talk to me for like, three whole days."

Tim doesn't take the bait. He waits, and _waits_ , and eventually Jason says, "Look, I know I didn't call."

"Or text," Tim says.

"Or text," Jason agrees.

"Or send out a fucking message in a _bottle_ that let me know you were alive, Jason."

Jason leans against the bike, digs in his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. "A message in a bottle?" He lights the cigarette, exhales. "Surely I'd e-mail first."

"That's not the _point_ , Jason."

"I know," Jason says. "It's just, things got kind of crazy, and… Hey, you wanna go for a ride?"

Tim stares at him.

"It's a _really_ nice bike. I got it from –"

"I don't want to know where you got it from, Jason. Whoever it is probably died, or cursed it, or cursed it while dying –"

"Won it in a card game, actually," Jason says.

"You don't play card games."

"I know," Jason says. "I snuck off with it while Roy let some idiot take his money."

"So, let me get this straight," Tim says. "You show up here with a stolen motorcycle, after disappearing for six fucking _months_ , and you think I'm just going to forgive you?"

"Well." Jason rubs the back of his neck. "Mostly I was thinking you wouldn't care that much that I was gone," he says.

Tim's arms drop to his sides. He's been keeping his distance, a safe seven to five feet, but when Jason says that he steps closer, breathes in the cigarette smoke and looks him in the eyes. "You're a fucking idiot," he says.

"I know," Jason says, and Tim moves in closer, shoves him. "I thought you were _dead_ , asshole."

"Tim –" Jason says, but Tim puts his hand on Jason's mouth, steps closer until he's standing between Jason's legs. It's cold outside and he's only wearing jeans and one of Jason's old t-shirts, the one with a rip in the back that Tim's never had the heart to throw away, but Jason puts his hand on Tim's waist and he's warm, so warm.

He tastes like smoke and too much coffee, like everything Tim's been missing for way too long. His hand is in Tim's hair and he lets out a sharp breath when Tim bites his lip hard enough to bleed.

Tim pulls back a little, both his hands on Jason's hips to balance him. "I _am_ sorry, you know," Jason says.

"I know," Tim says. He wipes the blood off Jason's lips, licks his thumb. "But not as sorry as you're going to be," he adds, nudging Jason out of the way. "I'm driving."


End file.
